birds take flight ('m kidding)
by Morganabel
Summary: anastasia romanov returns to school from cheerleading camp to a new school administration, a new principal, and her classmates weird new obsession with rugby and it's star player.


"Rugby?" Anastasia repeated the words dumbly, after her best friend, Katya Zborovsky, had said an entire long winded paragraph about the sport. She was pretty sure this was some weird sleep deprived dream she was having after that long flight she had taken. Or maybe she was still on a flight. "Everyone is talking about rugby?"

"It's the weirdest thing," Katya continued, as though this was not the most ludicrous thing in the world. "This new kid transferred here and now it's all everyone can talk about! Wait until you see him, Nastya, you'll get it."

Anya was still having trouble adjusting to the knowledge that their school had a rugby school, so this guy could be David Beckham himself (wrong sport, she knew, but who on earth played rugby to even reference?), so she was questioning her friend's confidence in Anya's understanding how rugby went from nonexistent to suddenly being the hottest sport at St. Petersburg Prep.

Okay, so like, over winter break she had attended a cheerleading camp, and had won the final competition and had attended a conference that had made her come back to school two weeks late. Apparently two weeks was long enough for everything to completely go upside down.

"He's dreamy," Katya fluttered, causing Anya to giggle, and shove her friend on the shoulder. "No offense to your Dad, but I think football's time is over."

Her father, who once was the school's principal, was now the head football coach and athletic director. There was an argument to be made there which one actually wielded more power. Her father acted like it was his choice, but the hushed voices of her parents and oldest sister made her think that it was more the workings of the new school board.

Shortly after him stepping down as principal, the school had hired on a young "up and comer" to help implement their ideals and education values. Principal Vaganov had started his first school assembly with a "joke" about how the old regime was over, but Anya found it in poor taste when her father still worked there, and four of his children still attended school there.

There were a lot of things about the new principal and "regime" she found to be in poor taste.

"They'll reclaim their glory next season," Anya swore, loyally. The past season had...not been good.

Katya raised an eyebrow at that, "We lost all the good players when Glub and his administration started. And the cute ones."

Glub was Katya's personal nickname for the new principal, it was what helped make her such a good friend. Whenever they saw them in the halls, Katya would turn her back, and face Anya, sucking her checks in, making a fish impression and mouth "glub glub". It made Anya smirk and roll her eyes but it made Katya laugh hysterically every time.

The new administration had taken the old, more elitist nature of the academy- the one where you had to take an entrance exam and pay a costly tuition to be accepted, and made it free for anyone to join.

The most snobbish and elitist had taken their children and ran to other exclusive prep schools and boarding schools. Her parents, however, had insisted that generations of Romanovs had been educated at St Petersburg Prep, and they would not be scared away by this inclusion of others.

"He's going to hear you one day and expel you," Anya warned her, "And I cannot survive without you here."

While the new administration certainly welcomed more, they were also quick to kick people out for little to no reason. 'These things are complicated, malenkaya," her mother would tell her.

Anastasia was always 'malenkaya' when it meant she should stop asking questions.

"You have your sisters!" Katya reminded her.

Anya gasped, looping her arm through her friends, "But they don't cheer."

And, honestly, cheerleading was all Anya really had left of her old life that even remotely seemed the same.

Dickie Mountbatten had been talking to Maria Romanov for approximately seventeen hours now, and showed no signs on giving up the girl's attention any time soon. It may have been closer to fifteen minutes, but every moment spent in school felt approximately two hundred times longer.

Dmitry Sudayev had a plan, not a very strict plan, but enough of an idea for a plan to work. He was lucky in the way that he was adaptable in his plans. He could see the next move ahead as soon as one thing shifted. However, a rather important part of the plan.

This was his fault, he had hesitated when lunch had started, and Dickie had appeared and the two had been stuck in their own world since. He could adjust. But he had to give up and move on for now, lest he linger any longer and look like some kind of weird creeper.

He walked out the lunch room, and ran straight into a girl. Or at least, he was pretty sure it was a girl. She was about 85% made out of hair. The other 15% of her was now covered in seltzer water and scowling.

"Sorry," he said, "I didn't see you all the way down there."

She tilted her face up, letting her hair fall back and he could actually see her for the first time. She grit her teeth, and spoke without moving them, "Clearly."

"You're a Romanov," he replied. She wasn't Maria, because he knew Maria. She wasn't Olga, because she had graduated. She wasn't pretty enough to be Tatiana. She must be the other one. Anna? No, longer than that. Annika? "An-"

Fortunately she cut him off from getting her name completely wrong, "Oh, you're Rugby."

Dmitry had never heard the sport's name spoken with such contempt before. Except maybe earlier in the week by Principal Vaganov, but that was an entirely other story. He's not quite sure what the sport, or he, had done to earn such disdain from the youngest Romanov sister.

"Have we met?" Dmitry drew the words out slowly, as though he was trying to place her. "Surely I'd remember you."

She blew a piece of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes away, unsuccessfully, "Please, you don't even know my name." She waved him off, as though predicting his denial- one he wasn't even certain he was going to make. "A Romanov! As though my sisters and I were interchangeable."

That seemed to be the general consensus, though everyone seemed to then pull out a specific trait to assign to each sister. Maria's the beautiful one, they'd say. "Tatiana is the one you go to when you need something done." "Olga is the smart one." What did the say about the fourth?

"Cheerleader," he said, and it seemed a fair response as she had referred to him by the name of a sport he played earlier.

"Boys," she half breathed, half growled the word, before stepping around him, and going into the cafeteria.

Dmitry watched for a moment, and saw as she displayed no hesitation before stepping in front of Dickie and pulling her older sister away.

Bold and unafraid. That's what they always said about the youngest sister. With a ridiculously prissy name. Anastasia.

The Romanovs still held too much power in this school. Gleb Vaganov was reminded it every faculty meeting where he had see his predecessor. He liked seeing Nicholas Romanov in his demoted role, but his fist would curl up in a ball whenever he'd see the faculty sneak a peak at him once something was suggested. The only thing Nicholas was left with any sort of control over was a failing football team, a semi-successful cheerleading squad, a mediocre basketball team and a handful of other sports no one cared about. But then there were the children. Tatiana, the Senior class president, every single student flocked to her and looked up to her opinions as though she were worth a damn, and not the spoiled, overprivileged offspring from the old, outdated, elitist system. Then Maria, who had a much wider range of influence, with social media followers. A sensation, his sources told him. Thousands and thousands of children out there trying to mold themselves into a selfish, spoiled Romanov. It was disgusting. Social media was the number one destroyer of this generation. Giving them far too much influence, power and ability to earn money doing nothing. They had implemented a mandatory class to try to unteach this horrible hold the internet and the phones had over them. Everything they needed to know in life, everything they needed access to could be found here, now, at St Petersburg Prep.

And then the youngest, Anastasia. He hadn't actually met her or heard much about her, other than people praising her skill as a cheerleader. She hadn't done anything as of yet to catch his attention but he's certain she'd begin abusing her privilege soon and reveal herself to be just like the other Romanovs.

Him and the school board had discussed expelling them all, but ultimately decided, that they could too easily spin themselves into the wronged party. Pick up media coverage, and twist this new school initiative into something dark and perverse, instead of the guiding light it really was.

Gleb took a sip of his coffee, feeling far more in control than he had earlier in the morning, during their faculty meeting.

He began his sweep through of the halls, The second bell had rung, and the halls were a peaceful quiet. Such a respectful quiet.

But then the sound of quickened footsteps, and he found himself face to face with a young girl, her outfit askew. She was looking down, attempting to wring out her shirt.

Gleb cleared his throat, "The bell has rung Miss-?"

Her head snapped up, her eyes widened in recognition and fear, "There was an incident at lunch- I"m-"

He held his hand up, "I can see." She averted her eyes, "Come now, it's no longer like before. We are understanding of our students." He lightly pressed up on her chin with his forefinger, and removed it when she made eye contact with him. Those eyes, there was something about those eyes. "You can use the office if you need somewhere private to attend to yourself."

"I have to get to class," she said, taking a cautious step backwards.

He smiled, he liked when students were respectful and demure, "I can supply you with a hall pass- I'm sorry- what was your name?"

The girl swallowed. Once. Twice. "Anya."

"Anya," he repeated, memorizing it. "Come with me."

"I need to get to class," she said, breathlessly-then, apologetically. "If I miss the beginning, I just can't keep up."

A girl dedicated to her education here. They needed more like that. Gleb nodded in understanding, reaching into his back pocket and writing her out a slip to excuse her tardiness. "Of course."

Anya gripped the slip with the tip of her fingers as she took it from him. "T- thank you."

Then she took a step back, and another step back, and then paused when he called out, "My door is always open for a student in need."

She nodded, before turning around to face him, giving him a wobbly smile, "Thank you."

Then she turned and walked briskly away.


End file.
